The Bastard Son of Luck Gandor
by GuardianSoulBlade
Summary: Summary: "Luck Gandor and Firo Prochainezo, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die!" Luck felt the knife sink into his throat. The mafia, the woman he loved, their son, and a mysterious cabal. Everything begins and ends with the Court of Owls.


**The Bastard Son of Luck Gandor**

 _ **Summary:**_ _"Luck Gandor and Firo Prochainezo, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die!" Luck felt the knife sink into his throat. The mafia, the woman he loved, their son, and a mysterious cabal. Everything begins and ends with the Court of Owls. AU._

 **Author's Note:** _I have watched the anime for Baccano! and I'm reading the light novels slowly yet steadily, this fandom ain't cheap for me to buy those. For those unfamiliar with Teen Titans in the cartoon, the superheroes don't use their civilian identities, but I pull them from the comics anyway. I also pull from various DC Comics media from cartoons to DC Rebirth canon. Prior knowledge of DC isn't required, but some prior knowledge of Baccano! is._

 **Prologue:**

It's a warm night in the Big Apple. Mary Lloyd slipped into an old apartment complex in New York City.

She slipped into the room via the slightly ajar window and crept towards the locked safe.

"Tell me, beautiful, what'd you do with my money?" Luck Gandor greeted the acrobat as he pulled the trigger of his gun and held it close to her head. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Tick Jefferson turned the light on.

"I'll take the easy way; I assume the hard way is with your old smiling friend with the scissors." Mary glanced at Tick.

"Do you know who I am, sweetheart?" Luck queried.

"You're Luck Gandor, Head of the Gandor Family, the third most powerful mafia boss in New York."

"And who are you?" Luck asked.

"Mary Lloyd, I'm no one really."

"No one," Luck laughed, "The same nobody that robbed the Mayor's house…in Paris, France. You had a partner, where'd he go?"

"We split ages ago," Mary kept her hands up. "I'm impressed you found me, the police still haven't. My crimes aren't very remarkable, Mr. Gandor, not compared to what you people pull off."

"So Mary, where's my money?" Luck demanded.

"As for your money, I gave it away. Some to the Red Cross, the Wayne Foundation, and Fred's Clinic."

Luck smiled a little, Fred's Clinic in New York was where Isaac and Miria worked.

"If you want your jewelry, I can give that back to you, but that would mean you have to let me go, and I could just run off and you get nothing."

"You're clever, I'll give you that. But you're the one with the gun to your head. You're being awfully polite despite your position."

Luck kept the gun level.

"It's always best to keep yourself under control when you're in a stressful situation. I expect to be shot in the face. I do deserve it, I screwed up and you caught me. Besides, crime lords like you are egotistical and psychotic, you people think you're untouchable. I've never trusted people like you; you shower your communities with money that you got over some poor victim's corpse. So I decided to take what you people cherish most: your money."

"For someone who's about to die, you're awfully calm, Ms. Lloyd," he contemplated squeezing the trigger.

"I'm an acrobat and perform stunts 50 feet up without a net. I can smile and laugh at death because I know that anything could take me out. I'm ready to die any day. If I die today I have no one to blame but myself."

"Travel with the circus?" Luck was curious.

"Yes, C.C. Haly and Norton Bros. Circus," Mary replied.

"Ever hear of Felix Walken?"

"Yes, he was my mentor. Taught me everything I know."

"Holy shit."

"That's an odd reaction," Mary laughed. "Then again, he was always strange. He lives in his own little world. He said he let me exist in it. We still tell stories about Cookie the bear. You know him?"

"You do know him, he's an old friend. Maybe I should be more accommodating, then."

"Are you going to shoot me?" Mary asked. "Christians say that all sin is equal before God. So shooting me in the head is no worse than me stealing from you. I'm not afraid of dying. It's always a possible outcome when you break into someone's house, especially in America."

 _Does she have no fear of death? Is she bluffing?_ Luck couldn't help but admire her. He'd always been afraid of death, until he'd obtained the Cure-All Elixir and become a complete immortal in the 1930s, but this young woman was mortal and one bullet through her skull could end her, and yet she smiled at him and simply waited for it to happen.

"Thy soul shall find itself alone, 'Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone— Not one, of all the crowd, to pry, Into thine hour of secrecy," Luck cited Edgar Allen's famous poem.

Mary met his gaze and replied, "Be silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness—for then, The spirits of the dead who stood, In life before thee are again, In death around thee—and their will, Shall overshadow thee: be still."

 _Beautiful and intelligent. Damn. I could almost forget this happened, but I'm not going to._

"I haven't decided what to do with you yet," Luck frowned. He put down the gun. She didn't try to run away.

He let his eyes wander; she just had to be a stunningly beautiful woman.

Mary smiled at him, noting he wasn't really looking at her face. "Since you're not _really_ looking at my face, I should tell you, I'm rolling my eyes."

Luck laughed, she had to be charming too, in that infuriating way that could almost make him forget she'd stolen quite a large sum of money from him. Almost.

"I can tell _exactly_ what you want, I may be blond but I'm not dumb," Mary pointed to herself.

"I'm not a kind man, Mary Lloyd. But I find you fascinating."

She crossed her arms, "Why's that? I'm not special."

"You have no fear of death, and that intrigues me, I feared death once until I learned how to cheat it."

"What happens now?" Mary met his gaze, she couldn't read his expression.

"I don't like hurting women, but you will pay me back, one way or another," Luck told her.

"I can't offer you much, but the way you've been staring, I know what you want. Besides, I don't have nearly enough to pay you back. What kind of money do you think I'd get selling my trailer?"

"Tell me stories, about where you've been, I'm also curious about why you'd rob the rich in Paris. You've lived an interesting life, so entertain me," Luck gestured to her.

"So it's jackpots you want, those I can give you," Mary smiled him.

"Jackpots?"

"Stories about the circus."

"Also if you'd get me in touch with Mr. C.C. Haly, I have an interest in buying the circus."

"Why?"

"I need a legitimate business, and why not? Kids love the circus," he grinned.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Mr. Tick, you can go, she'll see you later."

Tick left and Luck locked the door.

"You won't have anything to worry about, after all, you are the student of an old friend of mine, I'd hate to piss off Felix."

"Is he really so scary?" Mary raised an eyebrow.

"You have no idea," Luck laughed.

"You should consider yourself lucky you're so beautiful, other gangsters wouldn't have any problem shooting you in the face."

"That's what the protagonists of crappy romance novels say," Mary smirked.

"What kind of story is this then?" Luck asked.

"A crime thriller," she chuckled.

"In order to pay off what you stole from me, you can be my goombah," he smiled.

"You're asking me to be…?"

"My girlfriend," he clarified.

"It's an offer I can't refuse; besides, you just pointed a gun to my head!"

"You're right, but it's still nice to spend time with someone not connected to any of the families."

"I'll accept, on one condition," Mary told him.

"What's that?"

"Don't treat me like a trophy. This is just a dalliance; I'm not expecting anything out of this, and you just want a good time. My life is on the road, and that's how it will be."

"I see. You'll enjoy this, I promise," Luck pulled off his jacket.

"Don't get smug like you're my first," she informed him, sighing.

"A woman as beautiful as you, of course I'm not first," he stroked her cheek.

"As long as I'm able to wake up tomorrow to work, we can do whatever you want," Mary informed him as he stood over her.

"Since when do you work?"

"I'm an acrobat, Mr. Gandor, and unlike you, some of us do have to _work_ for a living."

"I think I love you, sweetheart," he kissed her again, pushing her onto his bed.

"You should only say that when you mean it," Mary murmured in his ear.

"I don't think I'll be getting you out of my head anytime soon. I think I'm smitten."

"Don't push your luck."

That made the mafia head laugh.

* * *

 **13 years later…**

Luck Gandor could feel the shock hit him as he watched the Flying Graysons hit the dirt. The noise was sickening. The crowds' gasp of horror filled the air.

Luck looked over and found the sneering face of Tony Zucco. "I think the Flying Graysons might have to change their name."

 _Murdered by the Maroni Family?! Is this about me…about us?_ Luck thought to himself. _Does he know about her connection to me?_

He attended the funeral. It felt surreal to him, but there he was, looking down at her grave.

 _John and Mary Grayson, Parents, Performers, Who still soar in our sky._

"We should leave, Luck. If anyone sees you here, it might bring up some questions, like why a mobster would visit a murder victim's grave," Firo advised him.

"We need to go visit old man Haly, I need answers and he's going to tell me what I want to know!"

"Did you see the papers?" Firo handed Luck the Gotham Herald.

Luck read the headline:

 _SUSPECT IN CIRCUS KILLINGS STILL AT LARGE. Lead suspect at Haly's Circus Murders evades Police._

"It's real disappointing," Luck Gandor sighed, "at least the police could pretend to do their jobs."

"She wasn't made, Luck, she was just someone you were close to," Firo Prochainezo asked him. "You fell for Mary Lloyd hard, though. That was obvious to all of us."

"Yeah, a woman that beautiful and fearless…couldn't help but admire that," the Gandor Family Head laughed. "How many people can steal from the mafia on multiple occasions?"

"Isaac and Miria!" Firo grinned. "That's why you liked her, she reminded you of them, didn't she?"

"Yeah, but that was years ago, she paid off her debt to me, she got married, had a kid, that was the life she deserved. I'm too far gone for any of that."

"We know that kid of hers is yours, even her husband knew that. John resented her for it, but he was civil when you came to visit. Your relationship with the Graysons was always amicable," Firo put a hand on Luck's shoulder.

"Not at first, it took time, but she did have feelings for me, she told me that the last time we were ever together."

"What about her golden-eyed friend, Richard?" Luck asked. "He'd been following her for _years_. I had to have Vino pay him a visit to make sure he didn't do anything funny."

"He watched her fall with the rest of the crowd. We were all there. It's hard to not let something like that get to you."

"When you're immortal, it's easy to forget that people can die," Luck clenched his fist.

Luck glanced at the newspaper, "This Tony "Fats" Zucco, what do you know about him?"

"He used to be part of the Maroni family before he struck out on his own. He shook down businesses for "Protection" money."

Firo pointed at Zucco's picture. "He shook down the Flying Graysons since Mary's husband John was the circus manager. He said no, and so Tony killed them. Heard he had it out for their kid who called the police on him."

"It's a shame. Do you think he knew, about her and me, that is?" Luck asked his childhood friend.

"No one knew about you two, you only saw her a few times a year, when Haly's Circus came to town. She stopped seeing you when she got married."

Luck laughed, "Mary always invited us over to their trailer for dinner after the show. Claire loved to scare her kid with stories of the Rail Tracer."

Luck lit a cigarette and inhaled it. It was nice to be immortal, no lung cancer from cigarettes.

"Y'know Firo, it's really hard to be a gangster these days, we've got costumed freaks everywhere that reek so much havoc people like us are a joke."

"The mob is still feared by some people," Firo reminded him.

"But it's not like the old days. People in our day had honor, codes. That's all gone now. We didn't murder people who weren't involved. Zucco's beef was with John; Mary didn't have anything to do with that. He killed both of them, now her kid's gonna hate people like us. He was supposed to die up there with them. He was lucky."

Luck took another drag of his cigarette.

"Zucco's sabotage did nothing to that business, people filled the seats for the rest of their stay in support of the Flying Graysons' kid," Luck sighed. "Funny how that worked out."

"What are you gonna do now, Luck?" Firo asked.

"I'm burning Maroni Imports to the ground! This is personal!" Luck stamped out his cigarette.

"You wanna start a brawl in Batman's city, I can't stop you," Firo sighed. "Claire's disappeared, he's going after Zucco."

"Mary was his best student; he said he trained her to be an acrobat." Firo put his hat on. "It's funny how everything leads back to this place."

"Claire's taken it worse than you. But what about Batman, heard he was going after Zucco too."

"He's too busy chasing those Arkham Asylum freaks to worry about people like us." The Gandor Family Head smirked.

"He still pays mobsters plenty of visits," Firo grinned. "He's taken a personal interest in Fats."

"He'd scare me more if he actually killed people."

Luck turned away from the grave.

"Come on, Firo, we're going to visit Mr. Haly," Luck got into his car and drove towards the circus.

"Remember when we came here in '30 when Haly's came to New York? The Spectacular William Cobb, the knife thrower who did his whole routine blindfolded?"

"That was some show!" Firo agreed. "Didn't Claire run away to Haly's Circus?"

"He said he did, he said this place was weird."

"I hate Gotham City, too many freaks here. You remember Frederic Cobblepot? Luck wondered.

"Who could forget him? Backstabbing bastard."

"His family's still ugly; it never left the gene pool. Not looking forward to dealing with Oswald Cobblepot."

They entered where C.C. Haly was sitting at his desk. He managed to greet them with a stuttered "Hello."

"You should have come to me, old man. I could've helped you. Did you think that we'd just let the Maronis walk into our turf and do nothing? Or did you forget who _owns_ this circus? The Gandor Family! I let it stay in your name because you could manage this place!"

"You've never owned it, Gandor, you just thought you did. They…they're the ones who really run this show," C.C. Haly whispered nervously, glancing around like he was being watched.

"Who runs this show, then? Are you gonna give me a straight answer old man, or am I going to have to take you to Mister Tick?"

C.C,. Haly paled. "No, no. The answer to everything, what this circus _really_ is, is in the heart."

Luck grabbed the old man by his shirt. "Speak words I can actually understand!"

 _"Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send the Talon for your head."_

 _Any other person would scoff at the nursery rhyme of the secret cabal known as the Court of Owls, but Luck happened to be personal friends with an urban legend, and that urban legend had told him about the Court._

"Didn't Claire say something about them?"

C.C. Haly paled, "Claire…Claire Stanfield is still alive?"

"Yes, and you'll be paying him a visit if you don't keep talking."

"In the heart of the circus, there's a book of names, the names of every Talon the Court has ever produced. That's your proof that they exist. They're rich and powerful, they can do whatever they want."

"C'mon Firo, let's get going, we're not going to find answers just standing around here!"

They made their way to the center ring. They began looking around. Firo found the hiding spot, a place that had been pried up and nailed down countless times.

Luck began looking through the names. Felix Harmon, Uriah Boone, Ephraim Newhouse, Henry Ballard, Alexander Staunton, Claire Stanfield, William Cobb, Mary Turner, Alton Carver, Dick Grayson.

"That explains why Claire's so good at killing," Firo glanced at the book. "Since when did he work for a secret society of rich bastards?"

"He doesn't, told me they made him go through some crazy off-the-rails ritual, wanted to make him immortal, he got bored and left. Or so he says."

"You ready to split?" Firo asked; he stopped suddenly, sensing a presence behind him.

 _"_ _Luck Gandor and Firo Prochainezo, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die!"_ a booming, inhuman voice spoke behind them.

Before Luck had the chance to form a coherent thought, he felt his skull being crushed by an oversized hand that seemed far too big to be human. First, the knife slicing his throat felt cold and painful. But this monster really wanted to make him suffer.

"That should have killed you, my knife must be getting dull. Guess I'll do this the old fashioned way and enjoy hearing you scream!"

Then again, he found himself being lifted off the ground by his head, he barely managed to see this _thing_ that stood seven foot three inches in height. If he had been mortal, he would have been terrified, but he did the only thing he could think of: shoot the _thing_ in the head.

This giant of a man was dressed in a black and brown costume. It wore a mask that was shaped like an owl and its eyes were covered by large, round lenses. '

The sound of his gun rang in his ears; the giant owl shaped monster didn't even flinch and proceeded to crush his head into street pizza.

Before his brains were turned to paste, Luck Gandor made himself a promise: I'll find the Court of Owls, and I'll kill them all!

No matter how long it took, he would find them, and being a complete immortal, he had all the time in the world.


End file.
